


Brushwork

by Rubynye



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Body Calligraphy, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 03:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex and chocolate, art and homecoming. Or, how to make an artist sandwich.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brushwork

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings/Spoilers: Het, slash, threesome. Spoilers in an AU way for Episode 4.09, _Graphic_  
> Acknowledgements: [](http://lomedet.livejournal.com/profile)[**lomedet**](http://lomedet.livejournal.com/), always; [](http://emmademarais.livejournal.com/profile)[**emmademarais**](http://emmademarais.livejournal.com/), for the prompt and for the 'Innocent Seth' alternate universe. Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/rounds_of_kink/profile)[**rounds_of_kink**](http://community.livejournal.com/rounds_of_kink/).

Title: Brushwork  
Fandom: Numb3rs  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Charlie/Amita/Seth  
Summary: Sex and chocolate, art and homecoming. Or, how to make an artist sandwich.  
_Disclaimer:_ None of these characters or their settings belong to me.

When Charlie lets himself into Amita's apartment, the entranceway is dark and the living room silent. He frowns briefly as he toes off his shoes, remembering her text of "MY PLACE", and that she sent it 143 minutes ago. She would have every right to be asleep by now.

Then Charlie takes another step and sees the faint warm spill of light in the hallway, brightening as his eyes start to adjust. He walks in further and hears Amita giggle before she calls out, "In here!" She whispers mystifyingly, and is answered by another whisper, with more sounds of smothered giggles.

Who else is there? Charlie breaks into a sprint for the four meters to her bedroom, where the hallway mirror, propped in the far corner, reflects the scene. Amita lies naked on her belly, chin propped in her hands, skin warmly contrasting with pink sheets; her back is covered in dark interlocking spirals painted by Seth Marlowe, sitting crosslegged and naked beside her. He pauses, his brush an inch above the small of her back, a hopeful smile lighting up his bright eyes. "Hi, um, surprise," Seth says, waving to Charlie with his free hand, and Amita shakes her hair down and turns her smile towards him.

Charlie sees this all in one gestaltic glance, his heart jerking into acceleration as his right hand closes on the doorframe. Seth sat just like that on Amita's bed, sketchpad in hand and spiky hair extra messy, on three particularly sunny mornings fourteen months ago. Charlie blinks between the memory behind his eyelids and Seth present now, and Amita tilts her head in her familiar Charlie-you-confuse-me look, closing her eyes as Seth leans down. His gaze steady on Charlie, Seth kisses her on the sweet curve where back meets behind, and she shivers.

Seth stands up, setting down the brush -- there's a little pot and saucer as well -- and Charlie lets go of the doorframe and folds his arms. "Hi," Seth repeats, holding out his empty hands. Amita shifts a little impatiently. "I hoped you'd be glad to see me."

"Well, that depends," Charlie says quietly while his heartbeat drums in his ears, "you didn't unwittingly give any more ideas to enterprising criminals, did you?"

"Charlie," Amita sighs, but Seth waves off her objection.

"No, that's fair." Seth sets his mouth in a firm line. He almost looks unchanged, mustache and all, though he's lost the little goatee. "And no, I haven't. I won't ever again."

Charlie can't keep up the cranky act. "I know," he says, smiling and reaching forward, and Amita laughs delightedly as Seth grins and crashes into him, hands tight on his shoulders, mouth hot on his, glasses denting his cheek and moustache as ticklish as ever. Charlie laughs into the kiss, flattening his hands on Seth's smooth back, Seth's naked thighs hot either side of his as Amita mutters, "men," with fond amusement.

Eventually the questions press more urgently than the kiss, and Charlie pushes Seth back just far enough to look at him. "When did you get out?" he asks, but Seth shakes his head and looks down, pink flaring up his cheeks and the rims of his ears. "Why didn't you let me know?"

"Because he thought you might still be mad at him," Amita answers from the bed, gently kicking her feet in midair.

"I did --" Seth starts guiltily, but Charlie cuts him off with another kiss, feeling a flash of remorse for teasing him.

He can't help his curiosity, though, seeking the shape of events. "And how did _you_ find out?" he asks Amita, steadying his voice with an effort as Seth's fingers slide down his back and work underneath his jacket.

"I have my sources, Professor Eppes," she says, waggling her beautiful ass at him, "and you're really overdressed."

"Listen to the smart lady." Seth pushes Charlie's jacket down his shoulders. Charlie grins and shakes it off, letting Seth pull off his shirt too. When he reaches for his belt buckle Seth says, "let me," pushing Charlie's hands aside as he kneels, and Charlie's breath catches, his head starting to spin, worry aching in his chest. "Seth?" he asks, touching Seth's temple as lightly as he can. "Are you--?"

"I'm okay, I'm fine," Seth says, with an easy truthful smile. "No prior record, obvious remorse and cooperation, the powers that be went easy on me. Where they sent me, I was mostly just incredibly bored."

"Okay." Charlie has both hands on Seth's face now, thumbs at the corners of his smile, watching his bright eyes. Seth pushes Charlie's slacks down, nuzzling his thigh meaningfully, and Charlie gasps and wobbles, electricity surging under his skin and his knees going weak.

"Decisions, decisions," Amita sighs. "As much fun as it would be to watch this, Seth, you really should know that if you keep Charlie standing he'll fall over when he comes."

"Augh." Charlie hides his face with one hand, Seth's forehead pressed to his thigh as both of them laugh at him. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Never ever," Amita agrees cheerfully as Seth backs up, and Charlie kicks and wiggles out of his remaining clothes, kneels rather less than more gracefully beside the bed, and pushes his hands into her hair to kiss her smile until her plush lips shape to his.

She smells familiarly sumptuous, spicy flowers and feminine skin and ... milky richness? Charlie pulls back to breathe deeper, stroking the fine soft skin over her temples, her hair rolling in silky waves over his hands, and murmurs, "you smell like chocolate."

Amita smiles mysteriously, her hands curved to his forearms, and answers, "Look closer." As Charlie climbs up beside her, Seth shakes his head like he's trying not to laugh, paints a stripe up his index finger and holds it out, carefully reaching over Amita's painted back.

Charlie leans in, sniffs, and licks. Chocolate, over the slight salt warmth of Seth's skin. He should've guessed, he thinks, feeling Amita turn her face against his arm, the puff of her giggle as he closes his lips around Seth's finger and Seth makes a little pleased not-quite-moan. "It tastes even better," Seth says, his voice reedy, "on her skin."

"Mmm, I bet," Charlie murmurs, as Seth runs that wet fingertip the length of his bottom lip. He nips Seth's finger, resilient under his teeth, and thinks of Amita's tender shoulder, the curve of her hip, smearing spirals with his eager tongue--

\--but Seth pulls back, halting Charlie with an outflung hand, saying, "Wait, hey, wait." At Charlie's questioning glare, Seth just shrugs. "The painting's not done yet."

Charlie groans and slumps back against the headboard. Amita sighs gustily and mutters, "Perfectionists, why do I fall for perfectionists."

"I thought I didn't pay attention to detail?" Charlie sinks his fingers into Amita's hair as she pillows her head on his thigh, as both of them watch Seth lick his brushtip into a point, his tongue rosy and sharp, and examine it critically. When he touches it to Amita's back she shivers minutely; Charlie rubs his fingertips in a rough caress across her scalp, feels his girlfriend respond to their third vertex, and carefully considers his next question.

"When you're doing laundry," Amita answers meanwhile, groping for his knee. "These sheets weren't _originally_ pink," she tells Seth, who smiles without lifting his eyes from the careful continuous spiral he's drawing.

"So." Effortfully casual, eyes on Seth's face instead of the brush moving across Amita's skin, Charlie asks what he was too distracted to think of before. "Have you two been making art all evening?"

Seth glances up at that, cheek creasing with a little you-caught-me smile. Amita doesn't twitch as she firmly squeezes Charlie's thigh. "There _was_ some dinner," Seth says, dipping the brush with a twirl. "A little shopping, some research."

"And some making out," Amita says with unassailable matter-of-factness, turning her head to look up. "But we stopped to wait for you." She smiles, a reciprocal question in her eyes. "And make some art."

"Well, okay." Charlie glances up to the same question in Seth's eyes, and smiles reassuringly at him, curving his hand to her cheek. "And, thanks." He looks down, turning his smile to her. "Thanks for waiting."

"Thank _you_ for waiting," Seth flicks the brush up. "_Now_ it's done." Covering the pot, Seth shifts all the supplies to the floor.

"Ooh, I have to see this," Amita pushes up, and halfway to helping her Charlie stops, completely arrested by the harmonic swing of her sweetly curved breasts. "Char-lie?" she asks with a singsong lilt, and when he can force his gaze up her eyes are bright with laughter.

"Just admiring the amplitude of your oscillation," Charlie says, and grins when she drops her head to laugh, her hair falling down her arm as she sits back, when the long mirror bangs into the wall because Seth bursts out laughing behind her and almost drops it.

"Only you," Seth says, still laughing, as Charlie braces Amita's arms and she carefully steps backwards off the bed. "Oh, you two, only you could make math sound..." He trails off, fingers jittering nervously on the frame as he glances down.

Laying her cheek against Charlie's, Amita looks over her shoulder, at her painted back or at Seth. Their fronts tucked warmly together, her arms sleek under his hands, Charlie watches Seth, half-hidden behind the mirror and just out of reach. "How do we make math sound?"

Seth looks up again, his grin bright. "Sexy."

Charlie can't help but grin back. "Oh, cool."

"Oooh," Amita says, squeezing Charlie's shoulders, and Charlie watches her eyes widen in the mirror, follows her gaze down to her back and feels his own go wide. It takes a moment to see, but then it all comes together, the arrangement of interlocking spirals not only gorgeous on the surface, dark on Amita's richly tinted skin, but highlighting the architecture of her body, hinting at the underlying math. Charlie looks and looks, tracing the sweep of swirls down to the base of her spine and up again, thinks about the simple fractal equations that describe complex structures and almost wants to go write down a couple of ideas.

Almost. Amita leans into him, soft and sleek, smiling at their reflection, at Seth smiling gently at them. "Seth, wow, thank you," she says, while Charlie is still stunned silent. "This is beautiful."

"As befits my canvas," Seth says with a little bow, and Amita's smile shines.

"It really is," Charlie agrees. "I... these look fractal."

Seth smiles even wider. "Oh, good. I was looking through these books Amita showed me, and I just... I could never do what you two do, but fractals I can kind of see, the way the patterns unfold and interlock."

Charlie nods, his chin on Amita's soft shoulder. "That's a common response, it helps make fractals popular, but... you've really gone above and beyond with the idea. Spectacularly." Amita breathes in, and Seth keeps smiling, and very soon Charlie is going to be too dizzied by their combined gorgeousness to stay on his feet. "I really... I should go find the camera, while I can still back away."

Reaching up to catch her hair, Amita turns to look Charlie in the eye, eyebrows lifted, shaking her head. Beyond her, Seth presses his mouth shut tightly as he shakes his. "No, no, that's not necessary." Letting her hair fall forward, she strokes Charlie's cheek. "Not that I don't appreciate the compliment."

"But, what?" Charlie would say more, but Amita slides her fingers across his lips, very distractingly. Seth slips out from behind the mirror, settling it securely against the wall as he explains, "it's supposed to be ephemeral, like a sand painting or a musical improvisation." Amita reaches back, and Seth catches her hand between his own.

"Well..." Charlie can't see Amita's back anymore; instead he sees her smile, sees Seth standing expectantly behind her. "I guess. But it's such beautiful art, it's kind of a shame."

"C'mon, Charlie," says Seth, leaning in close as Amita's breath speeds up, her breasts brushing Charlie's chest, "don't you want to know how art tastes?" He runs one hand up her back, and Charlie imagines five straight lines being drawn through all those spirals, watches Amita's eyes flutter half-closed, and as the scent of warm chocolate rises around them he's suddenly perfectly fine with losing this painting. They'll make another.

After they make a really awesome mess. "Well, when you put it that way..." Seth holds up his chocolatey hand and Amita closes her lips around his thumb, her sparkling eyes on Charlie, her tongue flickering out pink and wet. Charlie growls involuntarily, winding one arm tight around her as he licks a broad swipe up Seth's palm, up Seth's thumb and into Amita's mouth. She giggles into his, sweet with more than chocolate, and Seth hums happily, settling his hand sticky on the small of Charlie's back.

Charlie's hands slide in melting chocolate, their backs brushing Seth's ribs, as Amita tips her head back and sighs, as Seth pulls Charlie in and kisses him, lightly nipping his bottom lip. "Mmm, tastes good on you too," Seth murmurs, and Charlie blinks his eyes open to see Seth without his glasses, his eyes that much bigger and clearer.

"That's because it's spiced with Amita," Charlie says, feeling her breathe, feeling her belly quiver gorgeously against his as she giggles.

"I don't know." Her eyes shining, Amita tucks a hand into Charlie's hair as Seth lets go, holding his glasses carefully as he turns to put them away. "You taste pretty good too." Stroking Charlie's ear, she glances at Seth, dappled with chocolate, watching them as he sits on the bed. "You both do."

The bed looks like the right idea. "Maybe Seth can paint me next time, then." Charlie backs towards it, tugging Amita with him.

"Yeah, if you _shave_." Amita punctuates her retort by pulling Charlie down for a kiss, tugging his hair as Seth laughs behind him; the bed hits Charlie behind the knees, Amita slides her tongue into his mouth, and he falls right down onto the mattress.

Amita keeps her feet, leaning over him, and only lifts her head when he's landed; her hair falls soft along his face, already sticky at the ends. "Fuzzy body art?" Seth suggests, leaning forward onto his hands.

Charlie opens his mouth to protest and can't talk because he's too busy watching Amita from this angle, her long neck and the curve of her cheek, too busy looking at Seth's planes and muscles patched with tasty smudges. He watches them lean together, his hands resting on Amita's chocolate-slick back, watches Seth's surprised blink when she ducks her head to lick his shoulder, a broad stripe up over his collarbone. Seth shudders, lips parting, eyes closing, and dives for her mouth, curving one hand behind her neck. She leans in more, straddling Charlie's knees, and her breasts hover right above his face.

A much stupider man than Charlie would take that hint. He hefts their tender weight, his fingers smearing a thin dark coat over her luminous skin, her nipples perking against his tingling palms. He licks circles around one, feeling it harden further on his tongue, feeling her moan through her skin. She wobbles and Seth catches her arm, pulling her up a little. Charlie pushes up on his elbows, chasing her pretty breasts with his mouth; he flicks his tongue across the other, enjoying the way Amita's shudders propagate through her, listening to the wet luscious kiss-noises over his head, thinking about his next moves before the ability to think deserts him.

Seth has to be as achingly hard as he is, he could reach up... but Charlie thinks about his own dexterity, or lack thereof, and ditches that plan, sliding his mouth over Amita's soft skin. He remembers her teasing him about falling down and smiles over her breastbone, kissing his way down her quivering belly as he slips off the bed to kneel between her legs. He'll get his hands on Seth soon enough. Quickly scrubbing his palms on the sheets, Charlie nuzzles into a richer, muskier, more savory scent than chocolate, curves one hand to Amita's ass and licks directly up over her clit.

She makes a high sharp noise, even muffled by kissing, and Charlie lets her have just long enough to pull her mouth from Seth's and gasp his name before he slides two fingertips in a shallow caress and licks her clit again a measured fraction harder. Her gasp of "Oh, God," overlaps with Seth's groaned, "oh, _man_," and Charlie could smile, but she'd probably kick him for stopping. Instead he applies a flurry of longer licks, fingers dipping and teasing but not pushing in. Her thighs tighten around his ears, frantic moaning kisses resume above him, and his dick throbs in empty air but Charlie can't make himself let go to touch himself, not when Amita quivers deliciously against his mouth, her ass round and plush in his hand, her taste flooding his tongue.

When she starts bouncing vertically he gives her those fingers, her muffled scream spiking triumph through him, and she clutches around them, rocking into his lashing tongue, falling against him as she starts to come. She rides him through what he thinks is at least a second one, maybe a third, her pulse beating against his tongue, her screams a little muffled by her tightly clamped thighs and the breathless roar of blood in his ears. Charlie's chest starts to hurt, his tongue feels limp, and like always it's all completely worth it.

When Charlie can hear again, he hears twinned gasping and Amita's knees sliding over the sheets as Seth half helps and half pulls her onto the bed. His jaw clicks when he shuts it, and the discomfort itself is exhilarating; he smiles eagerly as he pushes himself up, swiping at his wet face, and the sight before him doesn't disappoint. Amita's slumped against Seth's shoulder, his dick damply red in her hand and her breast cradled in his, her eyes closed as she pants while his are big and bright and pleading. "Come _here_," Seth says huskily, sweat gleaming in the hollow of his throat, and Charlie grins and obeys.

They meet him knee to knee and chest to heaving chest, Seth moaning as he licks Charlie's cheek, Amita kissing him so hard his lips burn, wild the way she only gets after orgasm's shaken her loose. Someone's hand closes around his dick and Charlie can't even guess whose, just groans and thrusts into the mobile ripple of intelligent fingers around him, as Amita presses her mouth hot over the pulse in his throat and Seth kisses him even harder, all flexing tongue and raspy moustache. They're both so gorgeous in his arms, sweat-damp and sleek and still tacky with chocolate, entirely hazing over Charlie's mind.

Seth turns out to be the one stroking Charlie when he pulls away, trailing his fingers off, and Amita grabs Charlie's ass and presses into him, his dick against her soft belly, her soft breasts pressed against his chest with every gasping breath. She hums as she kisses him, tingling through her lips, and Charlie squeezes her to himself, feeling her writhe in his arms, just glorious when she gets like this.

Amita pulls back with an audible wet pop as the mattress dips, turning her head to give Seth a hot-eyed smile. Charlie nibbles the shell of her ear as he follows her gaze; Seth's lips reddened, his spiky hair wonderfully wild, so flushed and hard just looking at him makes Charlie's mouth water.

Holding up two condoms, Seth smiles lopsidedly. "Please, Charlie, Amita, together." He folds Amita's fingers around one. "Please, fuck me?"

Eyes flaring, Amita grins, sliding her hand up Charlie's back as she leans forward to kiss Seth, as Seth gropes for Charlie's hand and presses the other condom into his palm. Amita leans away from both men towards her bedside table, twisting sinuously as she lies down and rummages in the same movement. "Here," she says to Charlie, stroking his fingers as she passes him the tube, opening her arms to Seth.

For a moment all Charlie can do is watch, the movement of Amita's wrist as she slides the condom onto Seth, the shifting muscles in his shoulder as he holds himself up over her, pushing into her, the ruddy undertone rising in her cheeks as her lips part and her lids flutter heavily. She smiles dazedly at Charlie as she strokes Seth's back, his face buried in her neck, his breathing heavy and muffled. They tip onto their sides, Amita's leg long and golden around Seth's ribs, and Charlie pushes a pillow behind her head, trails shaking fingers along her cheek and Seth's nape, and makes himself breathe as they shiver in unison beneath his hand.

Charlie strokes down the furrow of Seth's spine, around the bony crest of his hip, under one firm narrow cheek. "I'm just gonna..." He trails off as he presses one fingertip to tight puckered heat, as Seth shudders hard, and belatedly remembers to douse his hand in lube. Seth's body quivers rigidly, his hand is a fist behind Amita's shoulder, and Charlie is caught in some strange twisty union of worry and want and jealousy, wanting to fuck Seth, wanting to fuck _right now_, wanting to be sure Seth's okay.

Then Seth exhales, flattening his hand against the mattress, and relaxes, Charlie's finger sliding in almost before he thinks to push. "Ngh, yes," Seth moans, and Amita kisses his ear, stroking his shoulders, and flicks her toes along Charlie's side.

Charlie shakes his head like he can make his brain settle, little crackles going off under his skin. He has to concentrate, and do this carefully, and--

"_C'mon_," Seth mutters. Charlie gives him two fingers and he bucks back onto them, making Amita gasp with him. "C'mon, _please_."

"I--" Charlie gasps, and bites his lip against Seth's desperate tone, the surge in his blood. "You sure?" Seth moans in response, clenching tight around Charlie's fingers, a very different rippling sensation. "You're ready?"

"Won't hurt me. C'mon." Seth squirms around Charlie's fingers, and Amita moans, and Charlie wants to join them more than he wants to _breathe_. He pulls his fingers out as patiently as he can, doesn't drop the packet and slides the condom on with shaking hands, tucks his knee between Seth's and pushes as slowly as he can with everything in him pushing forward.

Seth pushes back to meet him, and Charlie startles and his hips snap forward. Seth shouts, and it feels amazing and Charlie's chest pounds with worry, his pulse spiking. Too fast, too hard--

"Yeah, that." Seth reaches back, grabbing Charlie's forearm."C'mon, fuck me."

Amita exhales a long shaky breath, hooking her heel behind Charlie's back. Charlie nods, brushing Seth's nape with his hair, kissing him between his shoulders as he pushes in again, harder, faster, into the different flutter and press of Seth's body. Seth groans into Amita's shoulder, and she grips Charlie's arm tightly as she moans, and Charlie feels like, no, he realizes he _is_ fucking them both. He can't not move at that, a rising tide already beating in his blood, higher with every quiver and whimper. He shifts, feels himself rub over the low spongy bump as Seth cries out sharply. Amita rubs her heel along his back and writhes counterpoint to his thrusts, moans pushed percussively out of her, Seth pinned and pressed between them; she clings so tightly her nails dent Charlie's arm, crescents of sweet-hot pain as her eyelids wrinkle and her teeth meet and she shudders into orgasm with a sequence of sharp-edged cries.

"Oh God oh," Seth wails into her shoulder, and Charlie clutches his waist and feels him, seemingly every molecule vibrating into motion as he comes shuddering and squeezing almost painfully tightly, pulling Charlie with him over the edge into free-fall pleasure, fire rushing through all his veins.

"Oh, fuck," Charlie pants at last, his cheek on the mattress behind Seth's head. Seth's answering moan is meltedly happy, but Amita squirms with a little uncomfortable murmur, and it takes their combined remaining shreds of energy and coordination to wriggle off her and slump in a comfortably sticky tangle of limbs.

Some time later, Charlie takes a slightly cooler breath of sex-and-chocolate scented air, shifts, and feels the condom tacky under his thigh. He pries it off, tosses it at the wastebasket, and sits up to find the sheet. It's pink dappled with brown, and Amita slowly opens her eyes as he pulls it over them. Seth lies under her arm with his face turned downwards, seemingly asleep.

At least until he stretches and yawns and kisses Amita, then rolls over to kiss Charlie. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Sliding his fingers under Seth's neck to mesh them with Amita's, Charlie smiles into Seth's sleepy eyes. "It's good to have you back."

"Mmm, yes it is," Amita agrees, pressing her free hand over Seth's heart.

He shakes his head, blushing, looking down again. "Thanks," he says finally, and, "I have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Such as?" Charlie asks. Amita leans her cheek on Seth's shoulderblade, preemptively pressing closer.

"All that getting back-on-my-feet stuff. Looking for an apartment, getting my supplies out of storage, seeing what street cred this adventure will give me..." Seth's mouth twists wryly, and Charlie brushes knuckles across his cheekbone, because he still can. "Seeing if Ross will ever forgive me..."

"He doesn't know you're back yet?" Charlie lays his hand on Seth's shoulder.

Seth grips it as he shakes his head. "I could barely face _you_. I just... Max draws like a fiend, he could've had a brilliant career if he hadn't thrown it away doing those _Ultraman_ forgeries. If I'd never gotten drunk with Vaughn and given him the idea. I never thought he'd actually do it." Amita snuggles Seth tighter, and Charlie leans into him as comfortingly as he can, until Seth looks up again. "I have a lot to make up for."

Charlie nods. That much is really just true. "Want a ride there?"

"Uh, thanks!" Seth's eyes flare with his delighted smile. "In the morning, yeah."

"In the morning," Charlie echoes, his heavy eyelids sinking shut again.

"After you scrub my back," Amita says groggily, squeezing Charlie's fingers. Seth chuckles and squeezes his other hand, keeping it on his shoulder, and Charlie smiles.


End file.
